


Weeping Angel

by positivelypitch



Series: Breaking Breaking Broken [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Dream Smp, I'm Bad At Tagging, Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP Spoilers (Video Blogging RPF), Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Phil's POV, The Author Regrets Nothing, Toby Smith | Tubbo and TommyInnit are Siblings, it's a coping mechanism, just read the description hehe, this is an angsty one bois
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:35:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29698575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/positivelypitch/pseuds/positivelypitch
Summary: The aftermath of Wilbur's explosion, mainly from Philza's POV.I was too late. Too late to save any of them.And Will wanted me to take his life. Wilbur. My boy, who had once been so sweet and compassionate. Wilbur, who had come to me crying all those years ago, a sleeping baby in his arms and a freshly broken heart. Wilbur, who I could see now, had bloodshot, sunken in eyes, which had long lost their light.
Relationships: (All Platonic), (No shipping on my christian minecraft server haha), Technoblade & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: Breaking Breaking Broken [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2182542
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Weeping Angel

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Mentions of blood and violence
> 
> These are all characters not the actual people. I tried to be as loyal to the characteristics as possible but this is all fiction.
> 
> Enjoy!

I hadn't been there.

I hadn't been there for my son when he needed me and now I was paying the price. And what could I do? Where had it all gone wrong in Wilbur’s life?

Who am I kidding, I knew. I’d pretty much abandoned him around the time when Fundy was born. Tommy barely remembers me. Fundy won’t at all. And somewhere between then and now, Wilbur had raised a nation into being, and sent it collapsing to the ground. I was too late. Too late to save any of them. 

And Will wanted me to take his life. Wilbur. My boy, who had once been so sweet and compassionate. Wilbur, who had come to me crying all those years ago, a sleeping baby in his arms and a freshly broken heart. Wilbur, who I could see now, had bloodshot, sunken in eyes, which had long lost their light.

“Do it, Phil, Kill me.”

_Stop it Will, stop begging me. I can’t bear to hear it in your voice. All that despair, all that mania. It’ll kill me._

“You- you’re my son!”

Wilbur’s voice cracked when he next spoke. “Please Dad- I- I can’t go back to them. Look at it! It’s all gone! Everything everyone worked so hard to build. _Please_ Dad…” 

I just stood there, my hands shaking as Will grabbed my sword by the blade, cutting his hands in the process, and pointed it at his own chest.

“I’m so tired Dad… I haven’t slept in weeks, just let me _rest.”_

_Oh Wilbur…_

_“Let me sleep.”_

He gasped out in pain as I drove my sword home. It felt like I was pushing it through my own chest instead of his, so much that I wanted to cry out. But Wilbur was quiet, so I was too. But I could hear Tommy crying out for his brother in the distance, confused and distraught.

_What must Tommy think of me now?_

As my son began to fall, I wrapped an arm around his back and guided us both gently to the ground, him curled into me, as if I was reading him a bedtime story. One of us was shaking, I couldn’t tell who.

It would’ve hurt more to remove the sword, and I wasn't going to cause him any more pain than I had to. More than I already have by not being there.

He made a muffled noise, which sounded heartbreakingly close to a whimper, as I propped him up against the still crumbling wall, my hands already coated in his blood. 

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you mate.”

But he wasn't crying… No, he- he was _laughing_. Oh God, it was awful. It was so much worse than tears. It was a pained wheeze that made Wilbur wince with every chuckle, but he didn’t stop, even as a drop of blood beaded at the corner of his mouth, and ran in a thin stream down his chin. 

“Phil.” _Not ‘Dad’, Phil._ “Dream said earlier that there was no traitor, Phil, but you know what?”

With sudden vehemence, Wilbur grabbed my shirt and yanked me towards him. Where he got the energy, I have no idea, but Will’s grip was like netherite, and his manic smile unwavering. 

“ _He fucking lied._ ”

“Wh-what?”

“It’s Technoblade, Phil, It’s Technoblade.”

_No._

_No that couldn’t be true._

_Because if that were true it would mean that Techno had given into the voices._

_All those years spent away from my family to try and calm him, to try and find a cure for my oldest friend…_

_What good had they done? What good had I ever done? Just one more person I had tried and failed to save._

“The most powerful-”

Wilbur cackled soundlessly, clearly relishing in my horror. “And he has _eight_ withers.”

_Shitshitshitshit._ Tommy was out there. And Tubbo, and Fundy, and all my friends.

Wilbur let go of my shirt just as suddenly as he had grabbed it, which sent me toppling backwards. Without thinking, my wings unfurled and I steadied myself. 

“Go. See for yourself!” His arms relaxed and he sunk back against the wall. 

“I’ll- I’ll be right back.” 

Wilbur’s laughter followed me as I raced to the cliff that had formed, and began to climb down, giving me a perfect view of the utter carnage below. Friends fought friends over the rubble of their fallen country, unsuspecting that the worst was still to come. 

Tommy and Tubbo were nowhere to be seen; I could only hope they had run to safety. 

Who was I kidding? Tommy had never run from a fight in his life, and where Tommy was, Tubbo would be. 

Sure enough, high on a grass bank, I could see Techno looking on, surveying the chaos, enjoying it even. There was the skull in his restlessly moving hand.

* * *

(Tommy’s POV)

Everything we built. All a pile of fucking mess. 

People scurried over the remains of the country we had worked so hard to build. Search parties, Healers, Enemies planting more TNT.

Do it bitch, it’s all gone anyway.

And they were just wandering around, the lot of them. Punz, Sapnap, Dream, _Techno._ As if they had any right to stay here. I would have killed them all if I didn’t have Tubbo to look after. Tubbo, who could barely walk, a gunshot wound in his side, a deep gash along his thigh. 

What was funny was the fact that the Withers hadn’t cared about what side you were on. Everyone was hostile in their eyes. So really, techno and dream had received their punishment.

Together, Tubbo and I hobbled along the makeshift beams that had been hastily constructed as pathways. Tubbo was using my good arm as a crutch - the other had an arrow buried in the shoulder that I was not looking forward to taking out. 

“You good there Mr President?” I asked.

Tubbo laughed, which was a good sign. “I’m just great, and you?”

I didn’t know what to say to that. We were approaching a group of our friends; Fundy, Quackity, Eret, Dad- 

_Dad._

Oh god, the haze that had been the past few hours came back to me, fresh and painfully clear in my mind. 

Dad’s hands and robe were stained a dark reddish brown. 

“Dad!”

He turned towards me. “Tommy. Tubbo?”

“Where’s Wilbur?”

His eyes widened, as if he had forgotten something.

“Will…”

He turned and ran, heading towards the demolished lake.

“Dad!” Tubbo and I both cried at the same time. “Wait!”

The rest of the group looked dumbfounded, but I wasn’t going to wait for their questions. Instead, I sat Tubbo down, and turned to Quakity.

“Look after Tubbo.”

“But Tommy you’re injured-”

“Help. Him. I’m sorry Tubbo, you won’t be able to climb up. But Big Q is gonna look after you, yeah?”

“Tommy don’t go!”

Without looking back, I ran after Dad, following the path he had taken down to join us earlier. Deep down, I knew what I’d find at the top; I’d seen it happen. That didn’t mean I was ready. Dad helped to pull me up when I reached the top. Tears streaked in a steady stream down his face, drawing clear tracks in the dust and grime that had settled on him. 

And Wilbur was there too, slumped against the wall like a discarded doll, his head lolled to one side. Unsteadily, I crawled to a crouch beside him, one arm braced against the wall near his head.

“Will?” I tried a smile, but it probably looked more unsettling than it did comforting. Why did it hurt to talk? The sob building in my throat was threatening to bubble up, but I swallowed it back down. Because my brother wasn’t dead. There was no world in which Wilbur wasn’t in my life, and looking after me and Tubbo. 

But his chest stayed unmoving, and his eyes remained glassy, and the ghost of a smile still played across his lips. 

“Will, come on you dickhead, please-”

“Tommy I’m- I had to…”

_I know Dad, I know that but that is_ not _what I want to be focusing on right now._

“Maybe we can- maybe we can bring him back still?” It was nothing more than grasping at straws. “When did-”

“I left him to go and fight with you guys. When I got back he was... gone.”

_Nope._

“Wilbur you fucking bastard! Wake up and face the consequences of your stupid fucking actions! You do not get to do that to Tubbo, you do not get to do that to all of us, you selfish prick!”

But he doesn’t wake up.

“We- we can start over. You can come back from this. It’s not all gone. We’re going to build it back up. You should be there…”

And he doesn’t wake up.

The world is burning down.

Dad’s got an arm around me but I can’t feel it. 

He doesn’t wake up. 

* * *

  
  


(Philza’s POV)

We had to carry Will down. 

I sent Tommy down first. I wouldn’t let him be a pallbearer for his own brother; he clearly didn’t want to look at Wilbur’s body any longer than he had to. 

Eret came up to help, which I was grateful for. Though his condolences were sincere, they offered me no comfort. It’s the thought that counts I guess. 

What had been a dazed crowd had almost completely dispersed to an exhausted congregation. I guess the people that still had homes to go to had fled as soon as possible. Fair enough. Tubbo and Tommy had waited though. The two boys sat together, arms around each other, while Tubbo wept and Tommy pretended not to. His grip on his adopted brother, however, seemed as if Tommy thought Tubbo would leave him too. 

Fundy and Quackity sat back to back on the ground some distance away, completely silent, as if in a daze. The only thing that startled them out of their stupor was Eret and I, setting Will down with an exhausted sigh. At that, Fundy’s head whipped towards the three- no- the two of us, his eyes glinting with something harsh and hurt. 

“Is it true? He’s dead?” 

Tubbo winced minutely, causing Tommy to glare at his Nephew. I tried to find the words. It should have been so easy to say. I’m not particularly sentimental, and I’ve dealt with loss before. But Fundy was just a kid. Literally. I don’t know who allowed him to fight in this war. Will, probably. 

Thankfully, Eret spoke up for me.

“I’m sorry Fundy. He’s gone.”

The teen’s eyes widened for a split second, before narrowing again almost menacingly.

“He betrayed us…”

“Fundy-” Eret starts.

“NO! He led us all here! He told us to fight! And then he turned his back on us! People could have _died_ in that explosion.”

Tommy turned towards him. “But no one did, Fundy. And he’s dead now so what does it matter?”

That was surprisingly cold for Tommy.

“It matters because- because”

“Because what Fundy?” Tommy rose to his feet. “He’s dead. He’s got his punishment.”

“That wasn’t a punishment, that was an escape route! He was a fucking coward!”

“You think I don’t know that Fundy? I’m so mad but that’s not going to do anything, or help anyone because the person I’m mad at is _dead._ ”

Fundy was either about to cry, or hit Tommy, so I felt like it was my time to intervene.

“Boys. Hey, enough. There’s been too much conflict today.” 

Fundy snarled and turned towards me. 

“And where have you been, _Grandpa_? Why - after ten years of radio silence - why is it that the first image I have of you (that isn’t photo framed on a FUCKING WALL) you killing my papa?”

“Fundy… I’m sorry. I’ve been searching for-”

“A cure for Technoblade? I know that. He told me. But look around you! Look around yourself and tell me that it was worth all those years spent away from us.”

I didn’t need to look around to know that Fundy was right. _Look at yourself Phil. Getting your ass handed to you by your teenage grandson._

“You knew, you have to know he never got over losing my mum. Or you. He was a shit excuse for a father but he got that from _you_ Phil. And maybe if you’d stuck around things would have gone differently today.”

  
  


_Maybe things would have gone differently today._

  
  


“Grandpa- I- I’m sorry…”

I waved him off, replying quietly. I’d lost my energy. 

“No, no, _I’m_ sorry. I promise I’ll be here now. I promise. I’ll be here for you all now.”

  
  
  


_For a man of his word, promises aren’t easily broken._

_He has seen too much to shatter._

_He has lived too long, to self-destruct._

_But he may crack._

_All it takes is one fissure._

_ Splintering off, drawing lightning bolts in the weakening facade. _

_ Revealing, piece by piece _

_ The weeping angel of death beneath.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I just wanted to thank you so so much for reading! Also thank you to my friend Vita who was my Beta. So many corrections were made to this work ahhh. Let me know what you thought!
> 
> Also thanks to Vita who gave me THIS EPIC IDEA: 
> 
> I'm going to be making this into a series of fics about Phil's character, from Wilbur's explosion of l'manburg to his own. Phil's character is so so interesting, and his arc is underappreciated so I'm really excited about this! Subscribe to my ao3 if you wanna stick around for that, and comment any plot points you'd like to see me write in it!
> 
> Love you all! -Rosie x


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